When You're Young
by sunne
Summary: What was Harry's life like growing up with the Dursley's? Basically Harry's childhood. PLEASE REVIEW
1. Author's Note

I've always wondered what Harry's childhood was like. Yeah we get a bit of a sense in the books but that's superficial. What happens when Harry gets sick? Injured? Begins to walk? Talk? All those things not told in the book. 

I would like everyone to know that there will be no physical abuse common to fics about Harry's life at the Dursleys. Yes there will be verbal from Vernon, but no physical abuse.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or stuff associated to it. Please don't sue me I'm a poor college student who can't even afford three meals a day.

Now, on to the story.......

*runs back in*

WAIT!!!!!!!!!!!

Another thing, REVIEW, please, this tells me that people read my story. Another thing too, if you wanna flame me make it constructive. For example, "It sucks" is not allowed, it doesn't tell me anything, it just insults me. Instead, "Your grammar could use some work, maybe get a beta". Now that tells me what is wrong and suggests a solution.

Ok people....now...on to the story for real.

~~Sunne


	2. Chapter One

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Chapter One

Mama, it's dark.

The small toddler cried out, piercing the chilly October air with his wails. 

__

Mama, wake up.

The woman stared up into the sky with an endless gaze. 

__

I'm hungry.

A tiny trickle of blood ran down the child's face from a zigzag shaped cut. 

__

Mama.

The light above the house, now in shambles, lit the sky in an eerie green glow casting shadows haphazardly among the wreckage.

__

MAMA.

His wails increased to hysterical screams as his mother lay motionless next to him and no one answered his frantic cries.

~*~

The light in the sky still glowed strong as Sirius Black slowly approached the house with a disbelieving look on his face.

"Peter," Sirius said to his friend standing in front of the Potter's house, "You betrayed us."

An evil grin plastered itself on Peter's rat-like face as he threw his head back and laughed like a mad man.

"You bloody--" Sirius didn't get a chance to finish as Peter turned his wand on Sirius.

"You don't understand."

"Understand?" Sirius screamed.

"I belong somewhere."

"It's wrong. Peter, you've got to see. The Dark Side--"

"NO, you don't understand."

"Peter, what did you do?"

"I belong now," taking a knife out of his cloak, Peter sliced off his finger before disappearing.

"Oh God, oh God no," his screams were swallowed into the pitch-black night as the realization dawned on Sirius.

"Lily, James?" 

Throwing the door open, he stumbled into the house screaming for his friends.

"No, please no," he pleaded walking into the living room, stumbling over a solid object.

"Bloody hell," he grimaced rubbing his knee where it collided with the table's edge. 

"I can't see a thing," he pulled out his wand '_lumos_'.

"JAMES!"

Sirius's wand clattered to the ground as he fell to his knees next to James. 

"James, no James. You can't be dead."

Tears streamed down his face and dripped off his chin into the mess of black hair characteristic of James Potter.

From upstairs a faint cry swayed Sirius's attention from his best friend to his infant godson.

"Harry," he cried careening up the stairs two at a time.

The door at the end of the hall, Harry's room, was ajar and he could see into the room. It was dark and the furnishings were tossed about the room as if they were a child's playthings.

He walked into the room and gingerly picked up the crying baby holding him protectively to his chest.

Slowly Sirius knelt down next to Lily, "Not both of you. Dear God, no. Not both of you."

He tentatively brushed the golden copper colored hair out of her eyes. Gazing for what seemed like an eternity into the lifeless emerald eyes, Sirius was unaware of the familiar sound of apparating wizards and witches downstairs until one found him.

"Mr. Black don't move," the auror's stern voice echoed off the walls.

He approached the black haired man and gently took the child from his arms.

"Slowly stand up."

"They're dead...Dark Lord..." Sirius's words were chocked between sobs.

"Turn around and place your arms against your side."

Sirius's heart almost stopped.

"Wha--" Sirius hastily turned around wide-eyed.

"You're under arrest for the murder of Lily and James Potter, Peter Pettigrew, and countless innocent muggles."

"I'm innocent, it was Peter," he pleaded with the auror as tears streaked down the already soaked face.

"Right, and I'm Merlin," the auror muttered before putting Sirius into the complete body bind and floating him down the stairs where a half dozen people were waiting.

"I found him upstairs trying to harm Harry here," the auror gestured to the sleeping child in his arms, then handed him over to Remus Lupin.

"Good job Willems," Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, said.

Remus stood away from the group and stared in awe at his friend was floated out of the house.

"He's innocent," he whispered when all but one remained.

"I believe so my dear boy, yet the evidence is not on young Black's side," Albus Dumbledore said quietly.

"What's gonna happen to Harry?" Remus asked.

Remus glanced up at Dumbledore, at his blue eyes devoid of any sparkle natural to the man.

"He has an aunt and uncle in Surrey," his voice shook with unshed tears.

Just then the fire in the fireplace roared and a large man twice or even three times the size of a normal man tumbled out.

"Wh-wh-where is tha p-poor little tike?" The man was almost succumb with tears as he dusted himself off.

"He's right here," Remus approached Hagrid regretfully and handed Harry to the gentle giant.

"Ey, there ya are," his deep baritone voice sounded through the room as Remus backed away reluctantly.

"I really wish I could keep him," Remus muttered.

"One day, the Ministry will come to it's senses and see lycanthrope is not as dangerous as most make it out to be," the elderly wizard said

At that Dumbledore exited the small wreckage of the once quaint house in Godric's Hollow and disappeared with a crackling 'pop'.

"Hagrid, you can use my motorbike to get Harry to the Dursleys. It'll be quicker," head hung low Remus went outside and disappeared as well.


	3. Chapter Two

And here is chapter two...

Disclaimer: I don't own HP

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Chapter Two

Vernon Dursley shuffled around in the cold room trying unsuccessfully to locate his socks. Giving up he threw open the door to the master bedroom and walked into the bathroom to do his morning duties. Half way through shaving he stopped as he heard his wife, Petunia Dursley, scream from downstairs.

Running downstairs with only a pair of slacks and a half shaven face he found his wife at the front door gawking at a small child wrapped in a blue blanket. Attached to the blanket were two letters.

**__**

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Dursley,

We, the Ministry of Magic, regret to inform you that on the night of October 31st, James and Lily Potter were killed in an unfortunate Death Eater attack in their home in Godric's Hollow.

The matter on our hands is the custody of their son, Harry Potter. Due to the fact that you, Mrs. Dursley, are the only living relative of young Mr. Potter, we are entrusting his care to you and your family.

Minister of Magic

Cornelius Fudge

The second letter was less formal and written on wrinkled parchment.

**__**

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley,

We will be watching over the child.

DD

"This--this--this is your sister's child?" Vernon stuttered.

"Yes," Petunia gravely said, "Poor thing."

"Does that mean--he--he's a--a--one of them?"

"I suppose so," she practically whispered.

"Orphanage, he's going to an orphanage. I can't have him tainting our Dudders with his freakishness."

"No, we can't send him to an orphanage," Petunia said reaching to pick up the sleeping child.

"And why is that?"

Petunia handed over the second letter. After reading it over quickly Vernon crumpled into a small ball and threw it into the bushes outside their door.

"They can't tell us what to do. Our son comes first. I can't have this freak in this house."

"They'll come after us Vernon, do you want a whole load of THEM in our house?"

Vernon sighed and accepted his defeat, "You're right my flower, we can't have them in our house. One is more than enough," he said gesturing to Harry.

Petunia walked down the hall towards the kitchen taking the opportunity to get a good look at her nephew. He had baby-fine black hair covering his forehead, which Petunia brushed aside revealing a cut in the shape of a lightning bolt. Harry had the characteristic chubby cheeks of a baby and a tiny button nose situated above teeny red lips. She had to admit to herself that he was darn right cute, even if he was one of them.

She grabbed the bottle warming on the stove and another from the fridge and headed upstairs to feed Dudley and Harry.

~*~

The clock glowed 2:35 a.m. when Vernon was abruptly awoken from a deep sleep by the wails of two infants sleeping in the room next door.

"Petunia, you need to shut up that brat. He is upsetting our Dudders," Vernon growled to his wife lying next to him.

"Vern, he's only a baby."

"I don't care, just shut him up," he flopped back down and started snoring almost instantaneously.

Petunia sighed and swung her feet over the bed grabbing her robe from the chair in the corner. Wrapping the terry-cloth robe around her skinny frame, she made her way to the bedroom next to hers.

Against the wall was Dudley's crib and next to that was a small cot where Harry was. Dudley stood hanging onto the rails of the white crib, face scrunched up in a red expression of utter despair. Harry was on his stomach, arms pushing him up, crying and hiccupping

"Shhh my Duddikins, it's alright," she cooed to her now calm son.

Glancing over at her nephew, she noticed he was still crying and at a higher pitch. Putting Dudley down in the crib she bent down to pick up Harry.

"What's wrong?" she moved the black strands of hair stuck to his sweaty tear stained face.

Her hand brushed over the zigzag cut and she felt something wet on her hand. Blood. His cut was bleeding.

"Shhh," she said carrying him out of the room and to the bathroom.

Petunia grabbed a washcloth from the bathtub and wet it under the sink and dabbed his forehead before putting a band-aid on.

"Pet," Vernon stood in the doorway, "come back to bed."

"In a minute," she said wiping Harry's face with the cool cloth.

His eyes began to droop as he calmed down. Petunia walked around her husband and set Harry down on his cot before returning to her bedroom and falling asleep once again.

~*~

The cold months of winter dropped their snow on the town of Surrey and the residents took this as a queue to tack up their Christmas lights and plastic Santa Clauses in their yards. As this was the case at #4 Privet Drive. 

Inside the house a large Christmas tree was erected in the living room and three hand-made stockings were hung above the fireplace. On the far right was a lone sock with the name "Harry" scrawled in permanent marker.

Petunia had pleaded with her husband, Vernon, to put a real stocking up, but he wouldn't have it.

"I will not have a decoration for that freak up in my house," he yelled one day in December as Petunia tried to hang one up she purchased at the local department store.

"Vern, it's Christmas," she said looking into his eyes, trying to sway him.

"Absolutely not. And I will not have you babying him," he ripped the fuzzy red stocking embroidered with a snowflake from his wife's hand and threw it into the fire.

"He is a baby. He's only a year and a half," she yelled.

"Baby our Dudders. Possibly if we ignore that boy, we could squash the magic out of him."

"I do, but I can't take the look Harry gives me when you force me to ignore him. And I don't think you can squash it out of someone."

"Petunia, this is my house. What I say goes," his voice roared through the living room.

"MAMA," the high pitch wail of Dudley upstairs sounded.

"You've woken up our son," Petunia glared at him before retreating up the stairs to comfort their son.

That night at the dinner table Vernon gave to his wife's pleading eyes and agreed to put up a stocking 'replacement'.

"Fine, go upstairs and grab one of my old socks. He can use that," he said quickly before shoving a fork-full of roast beef into his large mouth and downing it with a swig of beer.

~*~

It was the day before Christmas and the Dursley family was busy preparing for the arrival of their Aunt Marge later that evening. Petunia was busy in the kitchen tending to that night's feast. The ham in the oven was sizzling, sending the mouth watering smells all the way up to the second story. Vernon was sitting in the living room with Dudley on his lap watching "Miracle on 42nd Street". Harry was sitting in the highchair in the kitchen with Petunia.

"Mama," he babbled to his aunt as she moved throughout the kitchen.

Up until this point, he had not uttered a single word except incoherent baby babble. Petunia froze and turned to where Harry was. He was staring directly at her.

"Mama," he said again.

Tears welled up in Petunia's eyes as she shook her head, "Harry, I'm not your mother."

"Mama."

Outstretched arms signaled to Petunia that he wanted to be picked up. She shook her head muttering, "I'm not your mother."

Seeing Petunia shake her head and back away upset Harry and he began to cry.

"I'm not your mother," Petunia said through the tears streaming from her eyes.

Vernon heard the loud cries from the kitchen and put Dudley down on the couch and burst into the kitchen, face red with annoyance.

"Boy, stop that crying, you have nothing to cry about," he yelled in the infant's face.

This caused Harry to cry even harder.

"Vern, stop," Petunia took her husband's arms and led him back to the living room.

The door closed to the kitchen and Petunia picked little Harry up.

"Shhh, it's ok," she soothed him until he stopped crying.

Just then the doorbell rang announcing the arrival of Aunt Marge.

***

I would like to now thank my reviewer...

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freakyfairy: You bet I was surprised when my story wasn't even posted and I had a review. Thank you soooo much. And I'm glad you like my story.

~~Sunne


	4. Chapter Three

Here's more :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

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Chapter Three

The door could be heard opening and the gruff voice of Vernon greeting Aunt Marge announced her arrival. He led her into the living room and offered her the best seat in the house.

"Ohhh how's my little Neffy-poo?" She cooed when she spotted Dudley.

Aunt Marge picked the already husky boy up and bounced him up and down on her knee.

"Auun Marsh," Dudley's squealed.

"Petunia? Petunia? Did you hear that? He called me Aunt Marge. He knows his auntie," she said to Petunia who was standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

"He sure does, he's a smart little boy," Petunia responded walking towards Aunt Marge taking Dudley back into his arms.

"So how have you been? We haven't seen you since last July."

"Oh it's been alright, done some housework with the help of Mr. Wither. Such a kind old man; helped me rake my leaves this fall. Just last month Heller had a new batch of puppies. I've eyed one I would like to keep.

"Oh really?" Petunia pretended to be interested.

"Yes, a strong pup. I've been thinking of a name and Ripper sound appropriate. What do you think?"

"Oh it sounds wonderful Marge."

Marge smiled and returned her attention to Dudley whose fingers had gotten entangled in her long bushy hair. His fingers were careening her face gliding over her faint moustache and her rolls of fat hanging off her neck. She disentangled his fingers from her hair and looked up at Petunia who was peering at her hands.

"So Vernon's business has been going well?" Aunt Marge asked.

"Oh yes, he received a raise last June to position of director."

"Oh how wonderful. My brother a director of a famous and important company."

"We were so proud," Petunia smiled.

"Well speaking of my wonderful brother, where has he gone to?" Aunt Marge turned her large voluptuous torso around and scanned the immediate area.

"Oh, he's in the kitchen preparing drinks."

Suddenly, a loud crash followed by a baby crying and a rather long line of curses were heard from the kitchen.

"You worthless freak," Vernon screamed.

Petunia jumped up, "Just stay right here Marge," she said quickly before disappearing into the kitchen.

"Vernon?" She exclaimed closing the door to the kitchen.

On the floor in front of Harry's highchair, was the bottle he was drinking water from and a large antique platter, that was originally holding the carved ham, that was now in pieces on the floor.

"MY PLATTER!!!! That was my mothers," Petunia screamed as the door to the kitchen swung open revealing Marge.

"Oh, I heard you took in your sister's brat. Rather skinny compared to our healthy Dudders here," Marge sneered at the toddler sitting in the high chair, now crying.

"My platter," Petunia cried over the mayhem going on in the kitchen.

"I bet it was him doing 'funny stuff'," Vernon skeptically eyed the boy in the high chair.

Harry kept on crying as Petunia started cleaning up the floor and Vernon took his sister back into the living room before returning.

"That's it," he growled picking Harry up from the highchair, "you're spending the night on your cot.

"Vernon," Petunia said hastily turning around.

"Pet, he's done enough tonight. I don't want him ruining our time with my sister."

Vernon strode through the doorway and could be heard stomping up the steps.

"I will lock you in your room and you will not bother us again tonight."

The Dursleys had cleaned out the room next to Dudley's that was formerly a storage space, and created a small room for Harry.

Vernon plunked the crying child down on the cot in the dark cold room, locking it as he left. What good locking the door on a child not even two years old yet would do, but Vernon felt a need to do so.

Harry sat on his cot in the already too big hand-me-downs from Dudley and peered wide-eyed at the looming shadows cast by the trees outside.

"Mama," he cried, "Mamaaaa."

But no one answered.

~*~

The two large hippos of people, the skinny woman, and the beefy child sat around the dinning room table eating Christmas Eve dinner.

"A much better atmosphere now that that boy is gone," Vernon fluffed up his chest and peered proudly at his son.

"That freak should be more like our Dudders here," he nodded his head in the direction of his son who was smearing mashed potatoes in his face and had bits of ham stuck in his hair.

"Oh such a little artist," Marge cooed.

"He's going to be really something when he grows up," Vernon proudly said.

Petunia daintily ate her food and tried not to pay attention to Harry's cries coming from upstairs.

"Pet, why you so quiet? You're not thinking about that boy upstairs are you," Vernon demanded of his slight wife next to him.

"Vern, he's only a small child," she met his eyes.

Vernon turned a rather dark shade of purple and slammed his massive fists down on the table startling Dudley making him cry.

"YOU ARE ALWAYS THINKING OF HIM. WHAT ABOUT OUR SON? WHAT ABOUT DUDLEY?"

"Harry need attention too," Petunia whispered to the enraged man next to her.

"YOU'RE NOT STICKING UP FOR THAT FREAK OF A BRAT ARE YOU? ARE YOU?" He screamed when she didn't answer.

"Vern--"

"NO, I WILL NOT HAVE THIS IN MY HOUSE. ESPECIALLY BY MY OWN WIFE," a single tear fell down from Petunia's eyes as she got up and went into the kitchen and began cleaning up.

For a split second a thought similar to Vernon's regarding their nephew passed through Petunia's mind. She shook her head at the thought and turned towards the sink to begin the dishes.

THANK YOU

NOW REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!


	5. Chapter Four

AN: Terribly sorry for not updating...here's chapter four

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

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Chapter Four

The festive cheer and warm kitchens all day long quickly vanished to cold dreary days stuck in the small house at #4 Privet Drive. Dudley has started to walk the week after the New Year, Petunia and Vernon were so proud.

"Oh look at our little Dudders walking like a man," Vernon's voice thundered with pride.

"My little Duddikins is walking. Come here sweetie," Petunia held out her arms to the pudgy round boy with the red face.

Harry sat in a corner of the living room playing with an old broken rattle.

"Mama," he said.

Petunia looked up.

"Petunia, Aunt Petunia," she corrected the young boy.

"Pooya," Harry tried.

"Pet, look at our Dudders walk," Vernon diverted Petunia's attention back to their son.

Duddley waddled over to the television set, "DB DB DB"

"My boy wants to watch TV. Ya see that Pet, he's gonna be a good boy," Vernon stood up and scooped up his son and turned on the television to some obscure old western.

The faded pink rattle, which didn't even make a noise anymore due to Dudley's rough handling, dropped from Harry's grasp when he saw the television turned on.

"Pooya, Pooya," he crawled over to his aunt and pulled himself up.

Petunia picked Harry up and held him on her lap until Dudley demanded his mother's lap.

"MAAAAAAAA," he screamed shoving Harry off of Petunia's lap causing him to start a screaming fit too.

Vernon's temper was too short to deal with all this ruckus.

"PUT THAT BOY TO BED NOW," he demanded.

"Vern," she started.

Vernon turned a dangerous shade of purple, eye's popped out, and that vein in his monstrous neck pulsates with built-up tension. He grabbed Harry from Petunia's grasp and stomped out of the room.

"You no good for nothing worthless little brat."

He noisily ascended the stairs screaming at his young nephew. At the landing, Vernon entered Harry's bedroom and practically threw him down on the dingy and dirty cot in the corner. Slamming the door, he returned to the living room and his family to watch television.

Harry, once again, was faced with a night in a cold room, fearful shadows on the wall, and those persistent knocks on the window from branches outside.

"MAMA."

"POOOOOYAAAA," his futile attempts at calling his aunt were ignored.

~*~

The ending theme song to the television show was playing as Dudley snored quietly from his mothers lap. The clock chimed nine times as the nine o'clock news aired.

"Come on Pet, lets get our Dudders to bed. The little tyke wore himself out today," Vernon said turning off the television and the lamp on the table as well.

Petunia sleepily carried Dudley upstairs where she laid him down in his crib. Harry's cries were still to be heard from the room at the end of the hall.

"Vernon--," she started.

"NO."

The two brushed their teeth and changed into their sleep wear before climbing in bed. Vernon kissed Petunia goodnight and then flopped down in his usual manner.

~*~

Glaring at the flashing numbers on the clock that read "1:30 a.m.", Vernon growled.

"Vern, just go to sleep," his wife mumbled before turning over.

Harry's high pitch wail could be heard plain as day in their master bedroom at the other end of the hall. The infant's cries rose and fell in a regular rhythm common to a child crying for hours at a time. Another, quieter cry could be heard from the room next door.

"That is it," Vernon shouted.

He threw the covers aside and thrust open the bedroom door. Heavy footsteps then another door being thrown open could be heard.

"Will you shut up you self-less brat?" he screamed at Harry.

This only caused Harry to cry louder.

"SHUT UP," Vernon picked up the child by his collar.

Petunia, who groggily entered the room stopped her husband.

"VERN, no you'll hurt him," she shouted grabbing for Harry.

Vernon took a step back from Petunia keeping Harry out of her arm's reach.

"No, I've had enough of his screeching. I have to get up at five and I need some sleep."

Vernon tucked the squirming toddler under his arm in a rather painfully tight squeeze and grabbed the cot. 

"Vernon, where are you going?"

"He's sleeping in the cupboard under the stairs. Hopefully we wont hear his cries," he said leaving the room.

"No--"

"PET, what I say about this insolent brat is what goes."

Petunia backed off after being screamed at in the face by her husband. She returned to the bedroom and curled up under the covers, tears running down her face. Harry was only a small child. He was scared.

The cot Vernon took from the tiny room at the end of the hall fit perfectly in the tiny cupboard and he rather harshly set Harry down on it.

Closing the door, Vernon grinned at the muffled sound of the once ear piercing cries.

Traipsing back up the stairs, huffing and puffing at the energy exerted, Vernon returned to bed and fell asleep with a successful smirk on his face.

~~

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THANK YOU

Freakyfairy: Why thank you for the kind words. I appreciate greatly

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Katani Petitedra: I'm glad you enjoy the fic. I believe that in the beginning Petunia wasn't hostile and mean to Harry. Gradually she learned to hate him. Thanks!

NOW...REVIEW!


	6. Author's Note

AUTHORS NOTE: 

What is the definition of fanfiction? What is it anyways? It is an individual's piece of literature that is based on a copyrighted piece of work whether it be a book, movie, anime, etc. We are allowed to change things and make it how we want. That is what fanfiction is. A person's creativity and imagination structured around a previously crafted piece of work.

When I started writing When You're Young, I admit that I changed a few things. Yes the books don't detail the death of James and Lily or much else from the 'beginning'. And yes the confrontation between Sirius and Peter was different. WHO CARES. I wrote it the way I wanted because it is MY fanfiction. I would appreciate it if people who say inaccuracies will make others dislike a fic, not review my fic. I know dozens of people who have read it and loved it. Saying that no one will like my writing is like saying no one will like who I am. I wrote this the way I did because that is the way I would like to interpret the material. 

Plus, I can change the Lily and James death scene. Who knows I may have Petunia care for Harry...Dudley become Harry's friend...maybe Harry will be told of his heritage...who knows what I will do for this fic. It's mine to play with. If you don't like it...then BUGGER OFF

THANK YOU for listening to me rant and rave but I am a hypersensitive being with a sensitivity level beyond what is normal.

CHEERS!

~~SUNNE~~


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